


Devotion

by Paladin-Pile (UserFromPluto)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Crying, Introspection, Love, M/M, brokenhearted Shiro, death/near death experiences, flower symbolism, hanakotoba zine, it's ok no one dies...for long, keith is sweet but scared, some shock and disassociation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 07:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UserFromPluto/pseuds/Paladin-Pile
Summary: “Please don’t leave me,” Keith begs, rasping. His dark lashes are wet. “Shiro, please—” he cuts off with a choked whine of pain, and Shiro’s heart shatters.“I won’t, I promise,” he whispers. Warm, red liquid spills from Keith lips, and Shiro wipes it away. His hands are shaking. He can barely control them.(When an alliance ceremony turns deadly, Shiro begs the universe for one last wish)





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> This was my contribution to the lovely Hanakotoba Zine. It was a joy working with my artist partners @saaiiro and @stygy. They'll be posting their pieces on tumblr soon. Enjoy!

  


 

  Shiro would remember a lot of things about this day: the cheers of the crowd as a new alliance is formed, his teammates standing proudly in the sunlight, or the soft smile on Keith’s face as flower crowns are placed on their heads.

  They are Earth flowers—impossible as it seems—small violets in delicate purple hues. They are highly symbolic to this particular planet, and the locals are eager to include them in the alliance ceremony.

  While the alien queen drones on in her speech, Shiro sneaks a glance at Keith. The red paladin looks absolutely _radiant._  The circlet of violets is nestled in his dark hair, framing his face and making his eyes even more striking than usual.

_“Our people honor these flowers as a symbol of loyalty; of devotion stronger than life.”_

  Shiro’s gaze lingers on Keith. He vaguely registers the words being spoken, but they might as well have been background noise. Keith is leaning closer to Hunk, laughing softly at something the other paladin is saying, and a coil of warmth blooms in Shiro’s chest. When Keith smiles like that, eyes twinkling and hair falling in his face...it takes Shiro’s breath away.

_“To those with this spirit, sacrifice is but an easy price…”_

  Pidge notices his distraction and elbows him in the ribs. Shiro wheezes and snaps his gaze forward, blushing slightly at being caught. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Keith look over, and Shiro does his best to look nonchalant. His own crown tips slightly, and Shiro reaches up to fuss with it.

_“....nowhere in the universe will you find a greater love than theirs.”_

 

\---

  


  The Galra take them by surprise.

  In the middle of the ceremony, their ships descend. Destruction rains as Shiro shouts for everyone to get to their Lions, but he’s the last one out and not the only one that doesn’t make it. Shiro finds Keith in the midst of a skirmish with some ground troops, and breaks off from the others to cut his way through. He fells Galra after Galra, hardly flinching when a massive Quintessence beam hits the red and black lions, disabling them. They’re on their own now, and when he reaches Keith, they share a quick glance, an unspoken pact. Falling back to back, they dig in, and fight.

  Time passes in a blur, enemy after enemy. Finally, after what feels like hours, the tide turns. The last drone in front of Shiro is falling when something catches his eye. A movement, a sharp sound—

  Shiro’s world goes silent.

  The Galra’s foot connects with Keith’s chest, forcing him backward. The blade slides, wet, crimson, _horrifying,_  from Keith’s curled from, and Shiro feels the drag through his own gut. It’s a visceral pain, one that forces the air from his lungs, clawing out of his throat.

  Keith’s name turns into a wordless cry on his lips. Shiro is lunging, swinging, tearing; an angel of vengeance leaving a trail of death in his wake. His mind burns as white-hot as his arm, but when his knees hit the ground both are extinguished.

  Keith lies there, but not still. His head is thrown back, face contorted in pain, chest heaving with each ragged gasp. He’s clutching his stomach.

  Blood. There’s so much blood, spreading, soaking the ground, and Shiro’s breath quickens. Choking back the urge to vomit, he uses both hands to put pressure on the wound. Keith cries out, limbs spasming.

  Shiro swallows and tries to take stock of their options. The castle is fighting in the upper atmosphere, and the other paladins are scattered over the planet. They can’t retreat, and even if they could, they wouldn’t get to Keith in time.

  “Help,” Shiro gasps, then louder, “Somebody, help!” but the fields are desolate of the living. The city burns.

  They are alone.

  Desperation claws up Shiro’s body, choking him in black horror. The blood isn't stopping. No one will come for them. He hunches low over Keith, slipping one hand beneath Keith’s head, then the other. The light in Keith’s eyes is dimming, and Shiro’s chest aches, each breath more painful than the last. He’s dizzy with it—the horrible truth that sinks slowly into his stomach. There is nothing that can be done. Keith is going to die here.

  “S-Shiro?”

  Keith is looking at him. His eyes are filled with innocent loyalty, and _oh it hurts._ Trembling, Shiro brushes the soft hair away from Keith’s face, threading his fingers through the dark locks. The smears of red, violets sticking to his bloody hands...it all screams at him, but Shiro is numb with terror.

  The crown is still mostly intact, held in place with a few braided strands. The petals are crushed and wilted, yet devastatingly beautiful. Keith’s eyes flutter closed and a spike of panic shoots through Shiro.

  “No! No, no...Keith! Open your eyes. Look at me,” he pleads. Keith obeys and Shiro slumps in relief. “Hey, w-we’re gonna get you out of here, okay? You’ll be alright. Just stay awake, please.” The lie burns Shiro’s tongue, but he has to comfort Keith, to hold him and not _tell him_ that—

  Keith’s whines and weak thrashes are like knives to Shiro’s soul. Words pour out of his mouth, breathless ramblings just to keep those violet eyes, brighter than any flower, from closing.

  “...You can’t get out of our dish duty. We promised Coran, huh? C’mon Keith, hang in there. Keep your eyes open. Can you _look at me?_ ”

  Shiro’s face is wet. Both their suits are soaked with Keith’s blood, and at the sight of it Shiro suddenly realizes:

_My helmet._

  He remembers where it fell, not too far away. If he can just get it, just _tell_ someone...it’s not much, but it’s a chance. Releasing Keith, Shiro sits up and moves to stand, but a heartbreaking sound stops him in his tracks.

  Keith’s eyes are flooded with fear, and the next broken cry drives Shiro to his side again.

  “Please don’t leave me,” Keith begs, rasping. His dark lashes are wet. “Shiro, please—” he cuts off with a choked whine of pain, and Shiro’s heart shatters.

  “I won’t, I promise,” he whispers. Warm, red liquid spills from Keith lips, and Shiro wipes it away. His hands are shaking. He can barely control them.

  Keith gasps and coughs, tears spilling down his cheeks. His gaze is distraught, begging, and Shiro wants to scream. Guilt crushes his chest, and he wraps his arms around Keith. He lifts him, gathering him close and cradling him to his chest. Keith’s tears of fear mix with blood and Shiro presses their foreheads together. _I would never,_  his heart cries.

 _But he has._ He has left Keith, been ripped away from the boy whose every touch and glance pled not to be abandoned.

  “Shhh, shhh, it's okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Keith.”

  Keith whimpers, while hot tears flow down Shiro’s own cheeks.

  “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Shiro cradles Keith’s head, mind screaming with memories—eyes of starry fire, the warm presence by his side since the Garrison. The soft touches and smooth, quiet voice, always reaching, supporting, protecting…

_Loving._

  Shiro’s eyes fly open. Keith’s slack mouth, his pale face, it—

  With a gut-wrenching sob he clutches Keith harder. If only he hadn’t been so blind, taken Keith’s devotion for granted...

  A gentle touch brushes Shiro’s face. It brings a rush of warm affection—as every touch from Keith does—but Shiro can only stare.

  Keith’s red stained hand fumbles with Shiro’s white forelock, picking at the hair before retreating with a tiny violet between his fingers. The fear in his eyes is gone.

  “Shir—“ he whispers. Barely a sound, yet somehow filled with love. “Iss’ok.”

  Shiro sobs bitterly. The cloak of leader and warrior that he had taken so willingly slips from his shoulders. Shiro is just a boy. One who is losing his best friend, the person he loves more than anything. Keith’s expression is soft, content to be in Shiro’s arms, and accepting death as long as he is loved. Shiro rocks him tenderly, cries echoing over the landscape.

  “No, please! _I need you!_ ”

  It’s a cruel plea, one he has no right to ask. He mourns over the smaller body, yearning to take every bit of pain that Keith doesn’t deserve. It should be Shiro. He would give anything to take Keith’s place, to give his own life.

  Keith’s breaths ghost over Shiro's cheek, each puff followed by a wet choke, an awful rattling. A single thought brands Shiro’s mind.

_I love you._

_I love you, I love you, I love you._ It’s the mantra in his head and on his trembling lips, soundlessly whispered into Keith’s skin. This boy in his arms is his home. _Please understand, please come back to me._

  Keith doesn't respond. Shiro feels each tiny tremble as Keith fights for life. One last breath, one more heartbeat.

  Shiro drowns in helplessness. After all Keith has done, Shiro can do nothing when it matters the most, only kiss Keith’s face and weep. A flame simmers just below his skin, a longing to pour his own life into Keith. But he can’t, and when Keith’s breathing stops, Shiro’s does, too.

  He shakes Keith a bit. He chokes out his name with increasing urgency, but the smaller boy remains limp.

  “No...no no,” Shiro whispers.

  The silence is deafening. Shiro holds his breath, eyes fixed on Keith’s unmoving chest. With each second that passes, the agony multiplies. Keith is, he’s...

  The last piece of Shiro’s heart breaks.

  He lowers Keith to the ground, still wrapped in his arms, and screams.

  The sound tears from his lungs. It rises from the deepest parts of his being that he didn't even know belonged to Keith. The wretched heartache rolls through him, and the flicker under his skin blooms into a white-hot sun. It burns, _blazes_ with reckless demand to save Keith. It’s impossible. But he will. He _must._

_I can’t lose him._

  A hard weight appears in Shiro’s palm, but he doesn't look up, doesn't care. Overwhelming grief drags him like a riptide, and behind his eyelids, a strange light burns. It pulls him, tugs at his chest with the power of a star holding its planets close, away from the cold darkness of space.

  A sudden weight on his back makes him jolt. The shape behind him blocks out the sun, and with tear-blurred vision, Shiro does not immediately know what it is. Frantic breaths make him dizzy, but finally, he sees.

  Massive, shiny wings loom from the back of his armor, wide and majestic. They resemble the Black Lion’s when her bayard is activated, with metal flight feathers glowing blood red and teal. Shiro stares, twists in experiment, but the wings stay firmly in place. They wave gently with each movement, shifting with his thoughts.

  Shiro looks down at Keith again, and it is then he notices the black bayard, summoned to his Galra hand. A thought, small and wild, dawns in the back of his mind, and—

  His breath catches.

  Eyes blown wide, he hurries to pick up Keith again. Keith’s arms dangle lifelessly, head hanging back. Shiro’s heart aches, but he steels himself, scrambling to his feet with pounding heart. He closes his eyes.

 _Floating._ A ghostly wind drifts around him in perfect silence. Colors swirl, blue, gold, and white, so bright they can be seen through his eyelids. It feels alive, surrounding the both of them, caressing them. Soft violet petals dance over Shiro’s skin, and the burning drive to save Keith returns. Shiro follows it, stokes the flame.

  There is a mighty tug as the wings unfurl behind him. He visualizes the sky above them and the safety of the castle ship. He pours out the silent cry of his soul, clutching Keith’s body tighter.

  Every fiber of his being trembles. Shiro’s mouth is open in a silent scream, begging the universe for what he cannot give. He would tear apart every reality for the boy in his arms. Nothing, _nothing,_ would stand in his way.

  In his mind’s eye, Shiro pictures the castle’s control room, and the burning sensation grows. It’s a strange sense of disconnect—of existing, but not.

  Shiro’s love for Keith morphs into power in his chest, building and coiling for some great leap—

  It’s the mental equivalent of being thrown like a rag doll. It seems to drain the very life from him, and just when he cannot hold on any longer, it is gone.

  His knees strike something hard. There’s a startled yelp from a familiar voice as Shiro slumps forward, but he has no strength to catch himself. The hard surface is cool under his cheek, and he’s so tired. He wants to give in to exhaustion, to slip into the cool, velvet darkness…but then, Keith disappears from his arms.

  Shiro cries out, and he flails his hands, trying to get his legs underneath him. Sounds float around him, lights and shadows, but it’s all too much. His limbs give out and he hits the floor again. The world shifts with movement and Shiro whimpers. Keith is gone, Keith is—

  Keith is in a pod, vital monitors beeping steadily. Shiro inhales. Exhales. A trickle of relief begins to melt the ache in his chest, eroding the jagged edges of pain.  

  Shiro’s mind is foggy, and he is lying on the floor beside the pod, something soft under his cheek. There’s something he’s missing. _How…what?_ Understanding lingers at the back of his mind, just out of reach, but too much effort for his weary mind. His eyes never leave Keith, deep yearning still tugging at his heart.

  Slowly, Shiro reaches out his hand toward the pod. It’s an immense effort, but he makes it, brushing the back of his knuckles on the smooth, grey surface. The vibration calms him. This pod is holding Keith, _healing_ him.

  There is a violet stuck to his palm.

  Shiro blinks, turning his hand, and yes, it’s really there. The petals are stuck to his skin with dried blood, but some of the vibrant color still remains. It’s a comfort, surprisingly strong, and a grateful smile ghosts over Shiro’s lips.

  He closes his hand around the flower, and falls asleep.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> join me on tumblr @Paladin-Pile


End file.
